#like one of those rug cleaning videos

[levi-my-beloved]

the overwhelming urge to gently remove my skin, stick it in the washing machine and hang it out to dry

[macabremadnesss]

Give me some patience, some love, and a pressure washer. I'll fix him trust

[heavenbarnes]

thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.

when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.

when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.

when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.

“sorry, love”

he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.

when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.

when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.

when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.

“in here, my love”

as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.

that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.

even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.

minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.

(and you are)

[slushycoookie]

I Like Your Dress ~ Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 2.7k

✩ Content: Logan goes crazy over your dress, Domino shows up (I miss her so bad), cream pie is mentioned A LOT, Wade breaks the 4th wall, P in V, Logan does NOT wrap it up this time, MINORS DNI!!

✩ A/N: Reader is the same reader as the one shot I wrote. You don't have to read that one, I don't go into much detail but if you guys want to read that one, read it here

Masterlist | Commissions

The fresh smell of food made Logan awake from his slumber.

Sleepily searching for you on your side of the bed, only to discover that you weren't there. Having a sudden burst of energy, Logan got out of bed to find you. He didn’t need to go far when sees you wiggling your hips at the stove, stirring a pot.

“Hey.”

You look behind you when hearing his voice, “Hi!”

Logan pulls you close as you greet him with good morning kisses. Well, afternoon after checking the time.

“How did you sleep? I let you sleep in a little bit, you were so tired from that mission last night.”

Logan smiles, “I slept alright.”

He sees the multitude of ingredients on the counter and remembers what they're were for. Wade was throwing a potluck since Domino was coming back from a month long mission. Of course, he invited you two and you were so excited. Logan was neutral. He would've preferred to stay in bed with you all day.

You said you were making a few things, but the amount of ingredients you had made him wonder. “How many people are you planning to feed?”

“Enough.” You said, going back to your pot, which he found out was pasta. “Colossus and Peter will be there. We both know how much they like to eat.”

“Don’t push yourself.” His tone was rough but you knew it was his way of caring.

“I won't.”

Logan grabbed himself an afternoon shot of bourbon before excusing himself to get ready. Trying to prepare himself for socializing and dealing with Wade.

When he came back clean and not as rugged, you were finishing up, putting white icing on the strawberry cake. Logan swiped his finger on the cake and licked it, cream cheese on his tongue.

“That’s good.”

“Don’t lick it anymore.” You lightly threaten, smacking his hand away. “Save it for the party.”

“Fine.” Logan kisses your cheek and stands behind you to watch you finish icing the cake. In your beautiful handwriting ‘Welcome back, Domino’ in pink icing. “Would ya look at that? You should be on those baking shows.”

“Nuh uh, I'm okay with just watching videos.”

Once you were finished, he helped you place the cake in the dome, ready to go with the rest of the food. You gave him an order to not eat any of it before you ran into the bathroom to get ready. Logan gave you about five minutes before inspecting the tins. He smiled when he saw you only made a few items, a large tray of pasta salad and spinach dip. Just to make sure it wasn't poisoned, he took a swipe of each, humming at how good it tasted.

He knew you were going to be a while so he opened a window, grabbed a cigar and lounged to smoke. Logan knew you didn't like it when he smoked in the apartment, but said it was okay as long as he let in some fresh air after.

As usual, you took almost a hour getting ready, but it was well worth the wait.

When you stepped out of the room, Logan started coughing, blowing smoke out the window to make sure a lot didn't linger. His eyes trailed your outfit, a tie dye colored maxi dress with thin straps, and cute, brown sandals to match. Logan didn't care when you scolded him for obviously taking a bite of your pasta salad. His breath was stolen away.

“I like your dress.”

“You're changing the subject, but thanks.”

He steps in front of you, eyes lowered as he kept gazing at your form. The dress hugging your body while still being appropriate. Logan's hand rests on your ass cheek, giving it a firm squeeze.

“I really like your dress.”

You avoid his lustful gaze, “Don’t you start.”

“Start what?” He steals a kiss from you, careful not to mess up your lipstick. “I can't compliment my lady?”

“You can compliment me by using your words.”

“It's not as fun that way.” He dips his head between your neck to smell you. You weren't wearing any perfume this time, but the honey scent from your lotion was enough to complete the entire package. Logan growls, squeezing your ass some more and making you giggle.

“We should go, I don't wanna be late.”

“We won't. I swear.” His hand cups the nape of your neck, putting it back so he could kiss you some more. Parting your lips to dive his tongue right in. Your moans spurring him on.

It didn't last long though.

“Logan.” You gently push him away, “We will have some time later.”

He sucked his teeth before grabbing all of the food you made.

Logan remained a scowling mess when you two arrived for the potluck.

You were the more social one out of the relationship, so you immediately flocked to the crowd who welcomed you with open arms. Even Domino, despite that this was the first time you two saw each other. Logan makes his usual rounds of saying hi before picking a corner with a drink in his hand and observing.

It was his way of enjoying himself without being easily annoyed and overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in the apartment. Best of all, he could watch you socialize. Your face lighting up at the conversations while that gorgeous dress clung to your body. Logan always likes to admire you in your element, but you wearing that dress was more than enough to make him want to do things to you. His hands involuntary flexed at the idea of feeling your body through the dress.

“There’s my grumpy kitty!” Domino says to Logan, who scowled at her, but there was no malice behind it.

“Hey, Dom.”

“Wade told me that your hair was getting better and now I see why.” She motions to you talking to Peter about him getting highlights. Logan's lips curl upwards again at the sight of you. “She's cute.”

“Thanks. I heard she scheduled you an appointment?”

Domino nods, “Gonna try something new. This is getting stale.” She motions to her afro.

“Don’t you dare change it.” Wade joins in, pointing at her. “You know how I feel about change.”

“Aww.” Domino pinches his cheek, “We all gotta grow up sometime.”

“You know who you're talking to right?” Logan comments under his drink.

“Your afro was one of the reasons you were so likeable in the second movie. Now what do we have, a woman with luck powers? I still don't believe that's a thing, by the way.”

Domino shakes her head at the audacity of it all, “I missed you too.”

She excuses herself, leaving Logan and Wade together. The latter started getting a little giddy, cradling his cup, while shooting multiple glances. Logan promised you that he was going to play nice during the party and not get easily annoyed at Wade.

“What?”

“We’re having cream pie.” Wade mentions, “Do you wanna know what flavor it is?”

Logan holds back an eyeroll, “Sure.”

“It's boston cream pie. I know we have a lot of sweet things considering we also have the cake your lady made, but I really wanted some. Actually, it's been a while since you've had cream pie, right?”

“I guess.”

“Oh you'll enjoy this one. You have a bit of a sweet tooth.” There was a moment of silence between them as they watched everyone enjoy themselves. You were getting many compliments on your food, asking for the recipes to make at home. “ Vanessa and I are huge fans of cream pie. Does your lovely lady like it too?”

Logan glared at him for a second before thinking about the question, “I think so.”

“Has she had it in a while?”

“No.”

“I think she'll be very happy when she gets some-”

“Why…in the fuck do you keep talking about the damn cream pie?” He feels a slight headache coming on.

Wade shrugs before taking a sip of his drink. “I can't like pie?”

Logan growls, ready to toss him out the apartment when you inadvertently save Wade, walking over with a huge smile on your face.

“Hi.”

“Hey, sugar.”

You embrace him with arms around his neck. Your lips kissing his cheek, taking in the aftershave.

“Hi Wade.”

“Hi. Your grumpy boyfriend and I were just talking about cream pie. Do you know we're having pie later?”

Logan felt his eye twitch at the question, his hand on your hip to keep himself from punching Wade.

“No, I didn’t!” Your eyes light up, “What kind of pie?”

“Boston cream. One of the best pies in the world, I should say.”

“Ooh, you know what, I haven’t had cream pie in a long time.”

“Oh really?” Wade tilts his head a little, while you nod. “Well, obviously you gotta have some. I think you'll enjoy it. The author knows what I'm talking about.”

And just like that, he's gone.

Logan didn't want to acknowledge whatever that was so he pulls you amongst his body. The most handy you'll ever allow him to be in public.

“We should go.” He whispers in your ear.

“Hm? We've only been here for two hours.”

That was enough, he wanted to say. Everytime he focuses on you and that dress, he wants to forget behaving and take you back home to lavish on you all night. For those two hours, Logan was trying to keep his thoughts pure enough to get a raging hard on. He didn't know how long he could last.

“Just hang in there a bit longer, okay?” You give him a kiss for encouragement. Logan takes in the imprint of your lips as you go back to socialize. No, he wasn't going to make it.

He hangs on when everyone sits around the table, laughing and talking. You're beside him, hand on his thigh to stabilize him and keep him in the conversation. Logan wants you to go higher, feel the impending hard on.

He needs to get you alone, show you that he was failing at behaving. There weren't a lot of places where you two wouldn't be disturbed. And he didn't want to take you outside and fuck you in an alleyway.

But God answered him.

You excused yourself, making your way to the bathroom. Logan watches you go as everyone continues talking. He gives it a minute before getting up and pretending to grab another drink. Instead, he beelines to the bathroom, standing beside the door and waits. His heartbeat in his chest.

“Who wants some cream pie?” Wade asks, everyone roaring with excitement once you finally open the door.

Logan pushes you back into the bathroom, lips immediately on yours. Your surprised gasp eggs him on while he traps your body against the wall.

“This is all your fault.” He mutters, constantly stealing kisses.

“Huh? What?” You try to keep up with him as his hands are all over your body, feeling your soft curves through the dress.

“You know what. Wearing this dress, not letting me do something to you before we came here. Torturing me.”

As he spoke, his lips were everywhere. Your face and neck. Trying to wear you down and submit.

“Torturing you? That, that wasn't my intention-oh.” His teeth latched on to your shoulder, having some self control to mark you in a place no one could see.

“I need you.” Logan starts bunching up your dress.

You try to stop him by pushing his hands down, “L-Logan? Logan, baby you didn't lock the door.”

“It's gonna be quick.” You let him bunch up your dress, seeing a glimpse of your panties, which he now sees that it's the lacey blue ones he liked. The ones you mentioned reminded you of the accent colors of his suit.

Logan's jeans were getting tight when he removed them, stuffing them in his pocket. Without saying a word, you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist. You whimpered under his lips as he was finally able to touch you while wearing the dress. Large hands molding your breasts through the fabric, still managing to locate the nipple and pinching it. His hips rolling against you, creating a nice friction against your cunt.

You were doing so good at keeping quiet for him, only managing the occasional whimper when he hit a perfect spot. Making sure you were stable on his arm, Logan reaches down to your core. His chest rumbles when he feels how wet you're getting. Sinking one digit inside while his thumb presses on your clit. Making circular motions while he was getting you ready.

“Didn’t need to do much, huh?” He said, watching you twist and turn. “You wanted this as much as I did.”

You didn't say anything but he smelled you. His finger coated in your delectable arousal. If you two weren't on a time limit, he'd reach down to get a taste.

Once you were ready, Logan maneuvers to unzip his pants. Even though you were dazed out of your mind, you remember something.

“I left my purse out there.” Your purse had condoms and knowing Logan, he didn't bring them as you insisted on being prepared in case something like this happens. But now both of you were unprepared.

“I'll get ya plan b at the store.” He continues to unzip his jeans.

“Don’t forget…”

Logan pulls his cock out with one motion, using some of your wetness for lubrication. “I won't.”

He then slips into you. You clutch on to him for dear life, your nails digging into his shirt. Curse his healing factor. He wanted to see the marks you'd leave on him.

He keeps you stable against the wall, sinking into you completely before starting to move. Quick and sharp thrusts in and out of you. Low, wet sounds filling his ears besides your shaky sobs.

“O-Oh god…”

Logan rolls his eyes back at your desperate tone, “God's not here, honey.”

His own voice comes out strained as he's fucking you. How he wants to pull your dress up further to see your breasts move. But having you like this was much hotter. Wanting you to remember that this was the dress that made him go crazy.

“Mmh Lo’…” He almost comes right there when your hand grips the nape of his neck, pulling the hairs.

Logan grunts, picking up speed, feeling some of his cum leaking out into you. His tip pressing against your cervix that was making you croon. Goosebumps forming on your skin as he hit that spot repeatedly. Making you whine and wince under him.

“Squeeze around me, sweetheart.” He commands and you do so. Your walls molding around his cock as you silently cried out. Even at the height of your pleasure, you still managed to be quiet, mouth agape and he wanted to shut those lips with his own. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

Logan wasn't far behind, pounding into you mercilessly before shooting his cum inside you. He stilled for a moment then pumped into you a few times to make sure all of his load made it inside. You capture him in another kiss, both of you sighing against each other.

Laughter nearby caused you two to come down from the high. Logan put you down, handing you your panties. He grabbed a few paper towels to make sure no cum stained his jeans. You were checking yourself out in the mirror, making sure Logan didn't mess up your makeup. He did ended up getting some on his face, which had you quickly trying to wipe it away with your thumb.

“I'm good, I'm good.” Logan reassures you before fixing his shirt. “I'll go out first.”

“Okay.” Before parting, he gave you another kiss, completely not caring if lipstick stained his lips.

The party continued as if the two of you weren't missing for the last fifteen minutes. Logan played it cool by grabbing another drink. When you came out the bathroom, you two momentarily locked eyes, before acting like nothing happened.

“Did you enjoy the cream pie?”

Logan jumps at Wade's sudden appearance, “What the fuck? How did you know that I-?”

“The pie's right there.” Wade points to the cut up pie on the kitchen counter. Logan stares at it, a bit dumbfounded. “It's good right?”

Logan's eyes land on you as you're speaking to Domino once more, “Yeah. It was good.”

Tags: @allmyn1ghts

[sculpturesof]

Yeah haha *scratches back of my head* What do I do? Oh I just help out with some video production stuff. No, I'm not a streamer haha! No, not TV or movies. Well uhm you know those oddly satisfying rug cleaning videos? Yeah, so like... I'm the one who gets them all nasty beforehand. Yup, that's me! Haha no the rugs never come in like that, they just buy new ones and give them to me and I get to make them absolutely filthy. Really mess em up. Yeah no there's so many people here. For sure, we can talk more later

[33max]

1000ish words of Max & GP post Hungary comfort

Lately, Max’s Instagram is showing him reels of power washing, lawn mowing, and rug cleaning. Some are weirdly satisfying and others make him want to claw his eyes out. What’s the point in showing the entire process and not the end result?

As he’s walking back through the garage he thinks about how great it would be to power wash his brain. Get rid of this gnawing uncomfortable feeling. Not because he thinks he’s in the wrong today, he’s not and he’ll stand by what he said both on the radio and to the press, but because he’s filled with an unbearable frustration that’s clawing at his chest and fighting fighting fighting for a way out.

He wants to soothe it. Get rid of it. Wash it away and feel balanced again.

But he also wants to scream. Wants to punch a wall. Wants to bite down into something and thrash his head from side to side because the championship is slipping away and he’s trying to grip onto it with just his sweaty fingertips.

Sometimes as he’s walking out of the garage and back towards his driver’s room he feels a calm wash over him with every step he takes towards his own space and away from the chaos. But today is different. Today he feels untethered. Like he needs something if he stands any chance of calming down.

An apology. An acknowledgement that the team fucked him over. But he knows he won’t get it, and that just makes the frustration claw deeper into his chest.

The last person he wants to see in his driver’s room is GP. The race engineer is perched on Max’s massage table, legs dangling and swinging back and forth like he’s not entirely comfortable with this interaction either.

“No,” Max says instead of hello. “I can’t right now.”

GP stands. He puts his hands in the pockets of his work slacks, he’s the picture of composed calm now. It’s all an act. He’s wearing the mask of quiet confidence that he can so easily slip on. Max has seen it a million times before. “I don’t want you to leave before we talk.”

“Tough.” Max snaps. He’s ready to grab his bags and head to the airport.

“Max,” GP says softly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” Max snarls. “Just- let’s leave it, yeah? I’ll see you in Spa.”

He grabs the bag he came here for and turns to leave, done with this conversation for today. He’s torn between being desperate for an apology, and not ready to accept one.

“Max,” GP says again, “I am sorry.”

“Thing is though, mate, I don’t even know what you’re apologising for,” Max says, anger laced in his tone despite Max’s efforts to appear as unaffected as his engineer.

“I’m apologising because I let you feel like you were out there on your own today. Like I didn’t have your back.” GP says. “I wasn’t- I know that today I was not what you needed.”

It’s a sincerer apology than Max was expecting from his engineer; usually, when they bicker they just write it off as their shared passion for racing. It takes him by surprise.

“You didn’t-” Max starts, and then forces himself to pause and take a deep breath. “I needed you to be on my side.”

“I was on your side.”

“It didn’t feel like it!” Max bites.

“Okay,” GP says calmly, weathering the storm he contributed to. “I know it didn’t, I misjudged the way you needed your communication today. But I am always on your side. We’re a team.”

Max feels the frustration dislodging slightly, the grit in his chest being smoothed over like one of those fucking power-washing videos. Without the frustration burning in his chest and keeping him angry, he feels fucking resigned, sad, and disconnected from the team. It hurts.

“Come here,” GP says, opening his arms. He’s recognised that Max’s anger is dissolving, exposing the often misunderstood sensitivity underneath.

No. Max shakes his head.

GP takes a few steps closer until they’re standing chest to chest, the closest they have been all day.

“I’m on your side, Max.”

Max keeps his eyes firmly on the floor. His stupid Red Bull-branded trainers are so close to GP’s, their toes nearly touching. “You’ve never called me childish in front of the whole world before.”

I’m not going to get into a radio fight with the other teams, Max. We’ll let the stewards do their thing. It’s childish on the radio, childish.

“Fuck, Max,” GP says, eyes wide. Then he’s closing the remaining distance between them, wrapping his arms around Max, holding him close so that Max’s face is tucked into the space where GP’s neck meets his shoulder. “I didn’t mean you were childish. You thought I meant you? This whole time?”

I’m not going to fight for you. You’re being childish. I’m not going to fight for you. You’re being childish. I’m not going to fight for you. You’re being childish.

“Yeah,” Max mumbles into GP’s polo shirt, chapped lips catching on the material. He can feel tears prickling behind his eyes, threatening to fall now that GP is holding him close.

“Come here,” GP says, squeezing Max tighter until Max wraps his arms around GP’s middle. “I’m so sorry, Maxy. I don’t think you’re childish. I think you’re passionate and determined and sometimes we annoy each other, sure, but you’re the only driver I would want to work with.”

Max can’t help the sob that rattles his chest. He didn’t realise how much of the ache in his chest was because of GP, how hurt he was by what GP had said, that his engineer’s words hurt him more than a fucking P5.

“Oh, Max,” GP says, stroking Max’s back.

“Sorry,” Max whispers. “I’m sorry too.”

“You don’t have to be,” GP tells him, one of his hands coming up to gently cup the back of Max’s sweaty head. “You don’t have to be sorry, Max.”

Max nods, tries to bury himself further into his race engineer’s arms. He’s not ready to let go.

“What did the medical delegate say?” GP asks, “That was quite a hit, Max.”

“That the only way to make a full recovery is to get a pizza with my race engineer.”

“Right.”

“And that my race engineer should keep stroking my hair.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” Max smiles, contented.

[ohtobeleah]

I just can’t believe Jaidyn is going to get away with beating Fe up. It’s so aggravating that he’s such a snake.

Yeah I know. But he’s gotta get away with it some more before he gets caught. And let’s be clear, he isn’t gonna get away with it. This is just my take on the systems that are out in place to protect domestic violence victims that don’t fuck for shit.

But as always, here the Terms of Endearment Masterlist

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“I’m not sure we can hold him for much longer unless you’re looking to press charges.” Chief Holden sighed as he watched Jaidyn Dolan sit in the corner of the holding cell without any expression on his face. He looked stone cold, calculating, and read to seek revenge on those who conspired against him. “All we’ve got on the guy is a video of him instigating a fight before he gets his own head caved in.” 

“One of the daycare workers we spoke to said they received a distressing call from the child's mother a few hours before he showed up to collect–” Sergeant Briggs paused as he looked at his notes. “Odette, or Dot for short. She said that Y/n, the kids mother had only just updated her daughters drop off and pick up list to make sure that if his guy ever did try and collect her, that he wouldn't be allowed.” 

“But the mother called and confirmed he was picking the kid up that afternoon, right?” Chief Holden asked as he kept his gaze focused on a frozen Jaidyn sitting in his cell. He’d been held overnight. Reluctantly held overnight. 

“Yes Sir, but I think there's a lot more to this than meets the eye.” Chief Mark Holden was old school, he believed black coffee in the morning paired with a cigarette was the best way to start the day. His wife Linda worked a nine to five and still managed to uphold the household to a standard he could be proud of. Linda made his lunch and ironed his shirts, she did the cooking, the cleaning, raised the two kids they never saw these days and the thing that Mark really enjoyed, was that his wife never stepped a toe out of line. If she did? He’d beat her back into it. “I think we’re looking at a case of domestic–” Chief Holden just growled, he cleared his throat and fished his keys out from his pocket. The master key for the holding cell nestled amongst a million others as they rattled and clanged against one another. “Sir? What are you—?” 

“Times up boy, you can claim your stuff at the clerk's desk.” Chief Holden spoke with a proud chest and a baritone vice that could carry itself for miles. Jaidyn frowned, he thought for sure he was done for. But the one who had been most caught off guard was Sergeant Timothy Briggs. 

“Sir, I really do think we should look into this.” He questioned, Jaidyn eyed him down when he caught the kids expression. One of reluctance and doubt. “An Admiral Beau Simpson from the Naval Base called an hour ago requesting a few of our guys to head on over to assist in an internal investigation he’s opened up, what if the two are connected?” 

“This seems like an open and closed case of mum trying her best to shut out dear old dad here.” Mark chuckled to himself as Jaidyn stood, waiting for the bars that held him captive to be unlocked. “Isn't that right son?” 

“Just wanted to see my baby girl sir, that's all, I'll be sure once I get my phone back that I'll be contacting my lawyer.” Jaidyn rubbed at the back of his head, trying his best to pass himself off as a misunderstood soul. As it turned out, other Sailors tend to recognised other Sailors on the sea, and when Jaidyn looked at Chief Mark Bartholomule Holden, he knew that he knew. But from one abuser to another? they‘d rather work together to collectively sweep this under the rug, because Mark knew if he started messing around with Domestic Violence and family issue cases now? His own friends and colleagues wouldn't be too far off sniffing out the shit on his own shoes. 

“I think this is a bad idea chief,” Tim explained as he watched Jaidyn walk on by with a smirk on his tired and bruised face. “I think we should have at least charged him with aggravated circumstances—“ 

“Well it’s a good thing you aren’t in charge here kid.” Chief Holden chuckled. “If you were, I'd be worried about you forcing your own moral beliefs and good intentions onto others who may not be so inclined to believe the same thing.” Briggs frowned at his chief's words. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Timothy Briggs wasn’t dumb, he knew what his boss had meant, he just wanted to hear him say it out loud. “Sir—?” 

“It means that you don’t question what goes on behind closed doors, it ain’t our problem—“ Mark hissed. “Now go make sure that man is processed out and see to it he gets on his way.” Sergeant Tim Briggs just stood gobsmacked that there were still people alive today who believed that there was a stigma surrounding domestic issues. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his chief was just so willing to let this guy go. “It’s our job to serve and protect, do you see the mother around here pressing charges?” Mark asked, looking around. “No, she isn’t, and until that happens we don’t follow this any further, there’s other things we can spend that valuable time on than chasing up a case of daddy done wrong.” 

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Tim followed his orders. He made sure that Jaidyn Dolan was processed out of the North Island police station with zero hiccups. He made sure all his belongings were handed back, and he made sure to send him off with a warning. 

“I don’t wanna see you back here in a few days, if I do I’ll make sure you won’t ever get out again.” Jaidyn just outstretched his hand. He smirked and waited for Sergeant Briggs to shake his hand. He never faltered for a second, but when Jaidyn reliaised Tim could see straight through his charade, he dropped the act. Dropping his hand when the Sergeant never met his grip. 

“I'm too good to get caught, kid.” Jaidyn winked. “But I’ll keep your intimidation tactic at the forefront of my mind.” 

***~***~****~****~****~***~***~

“God—“ It must have been awhile since you were sedated. You could tell some time had passed since the incident by the sun beaming through your eyelashes as your eyelids fluttered open. “Rooster?” You mumbled as you lulled your head to the side, expecting to see Bradley by your side. He’d promised to always be there, now more than ever. 

But when you opened your eyes to see he wasn’t beside you in that hospital chair that was surely the most uncomfortable thing ever? You felt your heart break into a thousand pieces. 

“Bob?” You questioned softly when you saw him sleeping in the corner of your hospital room. “Where’s Rooster?” You asked, watching as Bob crossed his arms across his chest a little tighter and stirred out a groan. When he didn’t answer you asked again, wondering why he had a stupid Stetson over his face. “Bob?” 

“Call me that again and you and I are gonna have problems—“ It’s the drawl in Bob's tone that throws you off more so than the whole get up. “And I’m not Rob.” You don’t answer, you simply raise a single brow and wait for the mystery man to remove the hat that’s shading his face. He brings a hand up to spider across the top. Long digit cup at the crown of the clearly loved Stetson and before you can stop yourself, you audibly gasp through your teeth. 

“I’m Rob's brother, he called me yesterday—asked if I’d come out for a few days to help out.” 

“I didn’t know Bob had a brother?” You saw the corner of the Bob imposter’s mouth curl up slightly into a small one sided smile. It vanished from his face seconds after as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his jean clad knees. 

“He wishes he didn’t, so he pretends that he doesn’t.” There was a reluctance in Rhett’s voice to continue, but Rhett thought if he showed a small amount of his own vulnerability, you’d be inclined to trust him. “He’s uh—he’s actually got two of us though, Perry, he’s back in Wyoming.” 

“Does Bob’s brother from Wyoming have a name?” You asked softly, still a little confused and taken aback as to why you suddenly thought a man who looked so familiar and similar to Robert Floyd could look so attractive sitting there in his black sweatshirt and jeans. 

Rhett smirked as he contemplated his next move, he knew he probably shouldn’t given the circumstances—but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. You just looked at him, waiting for a name to slip past Rhett’s lips. He spun his Stetson between his fingers as he let out a small chuckle to himself. 

Rhett simply pressed his lips together, sighed out a small huff of air as he settled back into his chair, placed his hat back onto his head and crossed his arms over his chest. All the while you watched on confused and convinced this was some sort of fever dream. 

“You can call me anything and anytime you like gorgeous—“ 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Dot, do you want scrambled eggs or gooey eggs darlin?” With work being called off till further notice, Jake thought it might be best to keep himself busy around the house. The fight you’d had kept Jake Seresin up all throughout the nap he’d tried to take with Odette. She, surprisingly—went down easily. 

Poor Dot had been so emotionally exhausted that the second she was up and out of the bath, dried and wrapped in a warm fuzzy towel while Jake searched her drawer for a set of pajamas—she was out like a light. 

Jake had laid in his bed for the better half of two and a half hours trying to get some rest while Dot snoozed away on his chest. Hopefully dreaming of better days. She looked so angelic while she slept, until she snorded just like you, only cuter and softer and a hell of a lot more forgiving since Jake was nowhere near the brink of sleep. 

But now, he stood in his kitchen with a tea towel hung over his shoulder and music playing softly through the speakers. Sex On The Radio by Good Charlotte. Something you’d approve of nevertheless. Cooking some much needed lunch/dinner for himself and your daughter who was playing with her dolls in the living room watching Bluey. A new favourite. 

“Scwambled pwease.” Do beamed as loud as she could, she was only just in sight of Jake who just chuckled at the way she barely turned her head to look back at him. Not caring enough to draw her attention away from the make believe fantasies she’d concocted in front of her. 

“Yes, your highness.” Jake smirked to himself as he cracked six eggs into a bowl, whisking up a storm before there was a brisk knock on the door. “It’s open!” Jake had received a text only five minutes before he decided enough was enough with his fight for some extra shut eye that Phoenix would be stopping by. She’d heard from Pete what had happened and couldn’t believe it. None of them could, but the Daggers kicked into action immediately—all doing what they knew what to do. Be there where troubled waters loomed. 

Phoenix opened the front door slowly, sticking her head in to see the average run of the mil scene in the living room off to the right. There she was, safe and sound in Jake Seresins living room, watching some cartoon dogs on TV all the while she made up some fantasy storyline between the dolls Dot was playing with. 

Phoenix could breathe again. 

“Hi there beautiful girl!” Phoenix beamed as she greeted Dot from behind, crouching down behind your daughter to kiss her cheek as she laughed at the sensation of Natasha fingers tickling her side. “Are your Dollie’s playing house are they?” 

“It’s Mama and Tooster—“ Dot explained as she showed Phoenix the Ken doll she had in a flight suit you’d found on Amazon. Did it look anything like Bradley Bradshaw? No—but to Odette he was her version of a superhero. “See?” 

“Woah, have you got a dollie with brown hair somewhere? Because I dibs that one when I come back, I’m just gonna go see Jake real quick and then we can play, okay?” 

“Otay—“ For a little girl who’d been through an awful lot in the last twenty four hours, she seemed rather content in her own space. Sitting pretty in her plaid flannel pajamas with her hair an unruly mess because Jake just couldn’t find it in him to brush it. Nat made herself a mental note that she’d put it up in two pigtails before she left. Padding her way into the kitchen where she saw Jake—shoulder deep in his domestic crisis. 

“Far out Hangman, this is nuts, I’ve been texting Bob all morning, she’s still not awake?” Jake didn’t know how to respond, Rooster had been keeping him in the loop, he’d been sending messages every hour on the hour since he left around six. But it was nearing noon and you were still out cold. “They must have jabbed her with some pretty strong stuff?” 

“She was pretty hysterical.” Was all Jake managed before he felt himself getting worked up again as Phoenix entered the kitchen, the place was a mess. There were lots and pans and dirty dishes everywhere. Jake was a mess. He looked disheveled and disheartened and disoriented. “But if someone tried to keep her from me, I’d hate them too, I’d hate me too for what I’m doing.” Phoenix’s heart broke for the man she’d watched become somewhat of a father in his own right over the past few months. He’s become a father and a brother and a friend to many in the blink of an eye. 

The Jake Seresin who stood in his messy kitchen whisking eggs in a mixing bowl for his niece wasn’t the same Jake Seresin who’d first come back to TopGun for that life changing detachment. 

“She’ll come around, you can’t blame her for being in fight or flight mode straight off the cuff.” Phoenix watched as Jake over scrambled the eggs he’d cracked into the mixing bowl—deciding to take over when she realised he wasn’t all that in control. “Sit down, breathe, Coyote said Fanboy and him are gonna swing by Roosters place and tidy up before you and Bradshaw start moving shit around.” Phoenix looked around as Jake just towered over her with his hands on his hips in full dad mode as she zipped around his kitchen. “Where the fuck do you keep your frying pans?” 

“Nat, I’m fine—I can look after myself.” That wasn’t the answer Phoenix was looking for. She didn’t give Jake the time of day as she continued her search, ultimately ending in her finding the pots and pans drawer. “Phoenix—“ 

“You need to rest.” She explained with a solemn expression. “You want my opinion?”

“I know that you’re gonna give it to me regardless of what I say so—“ Jake challenged as he watched Phoenix grab some milk from the fridge, adding the non-dairy substitute to the scrambled mixture. “Let’s hear it.” 

“I think you should eat, go take a shower, and try to get some rest because Rooster will need a respite sooner or later and you’re gonna be the one he calls.” Jake knew Natasha was right, she always was. He just stared down at her as she held firm on her stance, watching as she poured the scrambled egg mixture into the warm pan. 

“I don’t like being bossed around in my own home.” Jake just sighed but ultimately agreed, he wrapped his arm around Phoenix’s shoulders from behind and fluffed up her hair a little before making his way into the living room. “Are you gonna boss me around too?” Jake asked as he dropped to the floor beside Dot, watching as she played happily in her own little world. “Dot honey, your scrambled eggs are gonna be ready soon, can you start packing up your toys for me?” Jake asked softly, brushing the curls from Dot's forehead behind her ear. “You can play with Tash after you’ve eaten.” 

“Can mamma hewp me?” Oh, okay here we go. Jake braced himself for what he thought was going to be world war three. “Mama always hwlps me cwean up.” 

“We talked about this Dotty, mamas in the hospital.” Jake was as honest as he could be with Odette. “Remember? She’s gonna be away for a few days to rest up,” Jake tried his best to explain to Odette in an age appropriate way why you weren’t around. “But you get to hang out with me and Rooster for a few days.” He was ready for the war, the rage that this soon to be three year old was about to kickstart on the floor of the living room. But that’s not what happened, instead—Dot's bottom lip quivered as she burst into tears. “Oh sweetheart, it’s okay—“ 

Dot buried her head in Jake's chest as she splayed her arms out across Jake's torso. Kissing the top of her small head as she cried and cried and cried. 

“Tooster and mamma weft me.” Dot sobbed to herself as her little body tried to process all her big emotions. This had been the longest she’s ever gone without seeing you, or Bradley for that matter. Ever since he’d stepped up and become a more permanent fixture in your life. “I wove them doe—“ It broke Jake's heart, he hated this, the sound of Odette's cries knowing he could only do so much to soothe her worries. “I miss mamma, I just want my mommy.” 

Phoenix stood at the threshold of the living room just watching as Jake laid on the floor on his back with his niece crying on his chest. He had his own tears streaming down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.

“I know, baby.” Jake cooed. “I know you do, I do too, I really miss her too.” 

“Jake, Bob just called.” Phoenix didn’t want to interrupt. “She’s awake if you wanna give Rooster a call back when you’re ready.” 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready—“ Jake groaned, pulling Dot closer to him. He felt like he was falling through the floor, unstoppable in his descent into the depths of hell. How could he do this to the two most important people in his life? How could he keep them apart and cause so much pain when all he was trying to do was shelter a little girl who didn’t deserve any of this. “I don't know if she’ll ever want to see me again Nix—“ Jake tried to hide the fact he was crying from Dot, but she knew. She bawled her fists into the fabric of his shirt and cried with him. “Because if I was her I wouldn’t.” 

“Hangman.” Phoenix tried to be the voice of reason. “You’re doing all you can to help her, we all know Dot can’t see her mum like this, you’re doing the right thing.” Jake needed to hear it for his own sanity. Natasha had never seen Jake Seresin like this before. A broken shell of a strong man who oozed overconfidence like it was going out of fashion. He looked so different she hardly recognized him. “Felix will come around once she gets a chance to wrap her head around things.” 

“I hope so.” Was all Jake mumbled as he kissed Dots temple. “Because I love your mamma too much to ever lose her.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“I’m calling the nurses—“ Rhett shot up out of his chair and made strides over to where you laid in your hospital bed. “For all I know you could be some sort of serial killer Bob Floyd look alike and after the last few days I’ve had I’m not taking any fucking chances.” 

“I’m sorry,” Rhett smiled, reaching out to grab your hand as you wrapped it around the remote that called for nurses. You retracted yours at his touch, it truly shocked Rhett to see how utterly fearful you were. 

“Don’t touch me.” Rhett knew he’d messed up. It was his own fault for being too lighthearted about things. He should’ve taken this more seriously from the get go—but he thought if he could make you smile, make you feel normal, then you’d find it easier to trust him. “Don’t touch me again.” 

As Rhett stepped back in a show of good faith, he looked at you with worried eyes that looked far too much like Bobs. 

“I’m sorry, we got off on the wrong foot here, I’m Rhett, Rhett Abbott—“ You frowned, working to slowly push yourself up the bed to sit up a little more. When you let out a whimper Rhett stepped forward, offering you his forearms to grip onto so he could in turn aid you up. “May I?” You hesitated for a moment, but ultimately accepted the gesture, knowing you couldn’t do it on your own. “Looks like whoever this guy is, he did a pretty good job, but from what I’ve been told you put on one hell of a fight, lady.” You smiled softly, feeling the wires in your mouth against your gums. 

“I thought you said you were Bob's brother? Different last names.” It was a touchy subject, you could tell by the way Rhett took a reluctant pause and tried to navigate an answer that wasn’t nasty. 

“And I thought I said Bob likes to pretend he's an only child.” Rhett held your gaze as he helped you up before he reached out to prop a few extra pillows behind your back. He adjusted the bed to match the angle you wanted to sit up at. “Listen, I’m gonna be honest with you.” He spoke softly, like he was walking on thin ice. “Bob asked me to keep an eye on you over the next few weeks, just until things settle.” 

“What makes you think I’d be inclined to trust a complete stranger?” It was at that very moment that Bradley and Bob were making their way into your room, they’d gone to grab some coffee that had enough Caramel syrup in it the send Gwyneth Paltrow to the fucking stratosphere. But it was a much needed sugar hit. 

“Because there’s a chance that if you don’t you could end up in a worse state than you already are.” It was a hard pill to swallow and one you weren’t ready to accept. 

“I’ll take my chances—get the fuck out of my room.” 

“Okay—“ Rooster sighed dramatically as he stepped in before Rhett could respond with something out of pocket. Giving him a look of ‘what the fuck dude?’ As he walked past. “You’re awake?” 

“You’re still here?” It was the shock on your face that had Rooster questioning what you meant. 

“Where else would I go baby?” He replied softly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss upon your forehead as his hand held the back of your head. “I just needed a coffee, been up watching you sleep for what feels like an eternity.” 

“I thought maybe you’d left—“ You felt your heart warming inside your chest as your stomach filled with butterflies. “You know, after—“ 

“Don’t apologise.” Was all Bradley whispered as he kissed your cheek. “It’s a lot to deal with, I understand that.” You simply nodded softly in response as Rooster sat beside you, in the same chair he’d been in since you were brought back from surgery. 

“Where’s Jake?” Now that? That was a hard topic to answer, but Bradley gave you the decency of honesty. He owed you at least that much. 

“He’s with Dot, at his.” He paused to take a sip of his coffee, sweet with artificial sugar with enough caffeine to kill a horse. “She’s fine, hon, but Jake I’m not so sure about, he took it pretty personally.” That broke your heart, but you couldn’t say you didn’t expect it. You remembered what you’d said, the abuse you’d hurled his way. “But he’ll be back a little later today, I’ll go stay with Dot tonight and he’ll come here.” 

“He hates me doesn’t he?” You’d said some nasty things, but all you wanted was to see your little girl. Tears welled in your eyes as you reached for the lip balm on the side table. Rooster strung into action, taking it from you to apply some on your chapped lips. “He hates me doesn’t he Roo—“

“No Fe he doesn’t hate you, he just knows what he’s doing, although the right thing because we all know that little girl does not deserve to see her strong and beautiful mama like this, is killing you.” Bradley paused, glossing your lips up. “He hates himself more than anything because he thinks you hate him.” 

“I could never hate Jake.” You sighed softly, exhausted from everything you’d been through. “But I really am sorry, for what I said to you Roo, it wasn’t fair.” Bradley accepted your apology without hesitation, bringing his hand up to rest in yours. “I don’t deserve you.” 

“You deserve the world and then some.” Bradley smiled, taking a sip of his coffee. We’re gonna get you through this, just gotta take it one day at a time.” You’d never thought about it before, but as Braldey Bradshaw sat by your side with his hand in yours still looking at you like you hung all the stars in the night sky just for him, you thought for the first time—damn, you’d really say yes if he asked you to marry him tomorrow.

“You know I love you right?” 

“I know—“ Bradley smiled, his heart was just so full. He still had both his girls, although things were a little messy, he still had both his beautiful girls. “But just so you know?” Bradley leaned in closer, holding your hand up to his lips. “I love you so much more.” Bob cleared his throat at that. He saw an opening in the silence as you smiled a cheeky bruised grin. 

“I really hate to be the one to interrupt—“ Bob spoke up as he stepped to the side of your bed. “But I’m sorry about Rhett, he can be a little unforgiving in his approach.” 

“Listen, I came here because you asked me to, I’ll leave quicker than you can say the word go if that’s what you want.” Rhett stood with his legs slightly spread, arms crossed as he sent his brother a brooding look. “You asked me to come here, I dropped everything to come here, for you because you asked—“ It was clear to both you and Bradley that there was something deeper than surface level sibling rivalry that strained the relationship between Bob and Rhett, but as Bob's face softened, accepting his brothers response—you knew there was something worth fixing there. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry—“ Bob apologised. “I’m glad you're here man, really, and I’m sure Felix is gonna enjoy every waking moment she gets to spend in the presents of your company.” That’s when you jumped back into the conversation. 

“I’m not all that keen on spending any time with your clone Robert—“ 

“Uh, as a matter of fact lady, he’s the clone.” Rhett retaliated. “And I’m not so sure if I’m too keen on spending any time with you either.” 

“Well that’s too bad because you’re literally here to make sure that whenever Jake and I can’t be here, that Fe stays safe.” Bradley thought it was as good a time as any to jump into the conversation again. “Which brings me to now, I should really be heading off to see Odette.” 

“Will you tell her I miss her, oh so much.” You cooed, trying your hardest not to get so worked up. Rooster nodded as he kissed your forehead. “Don’t let her stay up too late and make sure she—“ 

“Fe, darlin—I’ve got it covered.” Bradley just beamed at you. “I need you to just focus on you, yeah?” 

“Yeah—I know I know.” You just pressed your lips together in a soft smile. “Leave the lip balm please?” 

“Of course.” Rooster felt his phone ringing in his back pocket before he fished it out. “Wouldn’t dream of leaving you here defenseless against chapped lips.” He beamed, looking down at the caller ID before he flashed you the idiotic photo of Jake that appeared on his screen. “It’s Jacob.” 

“He hates that you call him that—“

“Which brings me an immense amount of joy.” Braldey replied before he swiped the pad of his thumb across his screen, answering the call as he held his phone up to his ear. He waved you off as he left your hospital room, leaving you with Rhett Abbott and Bob Floyd until Jake was meant to join you later in the afternoon. “Hold on man.” Rooster remarked as he paused and turned back to eye off you and Rhett. “Play nice, get to know each other.” 

“I’ll stay for a while if you want Fe?” Bob added. Resting a soft hand on your shoulder as you brought yours up to cover his. 

“As long as you promise he’s not some sort of serial killer I’m sure I’ll be fine.” 

“I never should have left Wyoming—“ Rhett just groaned. “This is gonna be great.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

When Rooster pulled up at the Seresin x Y/l/n household, his heart swelled to a new size he thought was impossible to live with. There, in the front yard was Jake and Dot, waiting for Bradley to pull up in the drive. The minute Jake had told your little girl that he was coming to spend the night with her, she wouldn't leave the window. Wouldn't stop asking where here Tooster was. So Jake thought he’d do Bradshaw a favour and try to tucker the little tornado out. Chasing her around and around and around in circles and figure eights as she squealed and ran away and tried to dodge the six foot something giant chasing after her. 

“Tooster!” Odette beamed as she broke out into tears. Everything was still so hard to navigate and her little emotions were all kinds of unregulated. “Tooster!” Dot cried out as she ran across the gated yard, making a direct B-line for Bradley as he worked fast to rid himself of his seatbelt and jump out of the Bronco. 

“Hi!” He cooed, crouching down as Dot ran full speed into his chest and open awaiting arms. “It's okay baby, I'm here, don't cry darlin I've got you.” Bradley mumbled into the crook of Dot's neck as he scooped her up. Holding her to his chest with strong arms as she cried her little heart out, so overwhelmed. “I've missed you so much, have you been good for Jakey huh?” 

“So good Tooster.” Dot mumbled as she clung to him for dear life. Bradley smiled against her cheek, drying the tear that spilled from her waterline with the tip of his nose as he took gradual and careful steps towards Jake. greeting him with a soft all knowing smile. His brother in arms. 

“Fe thinks you hate her–” Bradley started, admiring what he could only assume was Phoenix’s handiwork for the pigtails in Dot’s hair. “When you go over, you gotta squash that shit.” Bradley could see what Jake was about to say, he cut him off before he even had a chance to speak it into the world. “And before you ask, no she doesn't hate you–if anything she knows why you did what you did man.” 

“I'm not sure if I have enough energy in the tank to head on over yet.” Jake rubbed the back of his head nervously, walking back to the house at Roosters side. “Phoenix took Dot for a little while there and I tried to get a twenty minute nap in, but I just couldn't–” Bradley understood, he held Dot on his hip and nodded softly. “Every time I close my eyes all I see is her in that bed and she looks unrecognisable.” 

“I feel like you'd be able to sleep a hell of a lot easier if you went and saw her, she's a lot calmer now–takes all her frustration out on Bob's brother, guys kinda like the designated punching bag.” Bradley chuckled to himself as he followed Jake inside. “He’s something else, don't stare at him for too long either, I was afraid that if I did a third one would pop out of the woodwork.” 

“Are you sure that guys gonna be able to handle Fe?” Jake asked, watching as Bradley threw Dot over his shoulder as she giggled and climbed across his broad shoulders like he was a tree. Settling either one of her little legs on either side of his neck as he held her ankles. 

“Probably not but he's the best we’ve got?” Rooster replied, noticing how clean the kitchen was, he knew that was Phoenix, he made himself a mental note to send her a thank you text. “Someones gotta be there.” 

“Am I gonna like him?” Rhett had gotten in about an hour after Jake left, so he hadnt actually met him.

“Eventually, he's no Bob that's for sure, but he's here and that's all I care about.” Bradley thought it was best to leave it at that as he bounced Dot up and down. She gripped her little fingers into his blonde locks and squealed out a laugh. “Now, as for you miss Dot, I think we should draw some pictures for you mum hey? Make sure she's got some art to look at while she's stuck in that bland room.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Rhett sat in the corner of your hospital room, eyeing you off as you returned the same glare. You'd been frozen like this for the past ten minutes or so. Sitting in complete silence as neither one of you refused to back down from the staring contest you’d unintentionally entered. 

“Give up–” Rhett mumbled out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Give in–” You replied through gritted teeth. 

“Never lady.” Rhett smirked, widening his eyes a little more dramatically before there was a knock on the door. It immediately broke Rhett out of the trance he’d entered. Standing as he took in the man standing at the threshold of your hospital room. 

“Uh, that's–” Admiral Simpson tried his best to keep his thoughts to himself. “I'm going to go ahead and assume that you aren't Floyd.” Rhett didn't respond, he simply stood there stoic as all hell just wasting for you to tell him what to do. 

“Cyclone? What are you doing here?” You asked from your bed as two police officers followed him in. Their presence instantly made Rhett nervous, having not been on the right side of the law all his life. “I wasn't expecting any visitors I didn't already know about?” 

“I came to see how you’re holding up.” Beau explained. “And to talk to you about the possibility of pressing charges against Lieutenant Dolan.” You couldn't wrap your head around why Cyclone was in your hospital room asking you if you wanted to press charges. Why on god's green earth would you ever press charges? You knew enough to know that the system was flawed enough. “We discovered some video footage of the incident that occurred, so the Navy can press its own charges, but I just wanted to talk to you and see if you were thinking about possible domestic charges?” 

“If the Navy can press their own charges, why are you asking her? Rhett snarled, immediately jumping to your defence. 

“Become it would bode well in our favour to have her as a testimony—“ You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, Rhett couldn’t either but he was less shocked. He’d never been a big fan of the government. 

“No–” You stood your ground, looking at Rhett who moved quickly to stand between your hospital bed and your Admiral. “No, I don't wanna press charges.” Jaidyn had conditioned you to believe that going to the police would do nothing but aggravate him. “All due respect sir, I’m not ready to talk about anything and I don't know if I ever will be.” You were spiralling, Rhett could see it, he saw the panic rising in your eyes. “I'd really like it if you left, sir, i'm just not ready to talk about it, especially to the police.” 

“Ma’am.” Sergeant Briggs stepped in. “I just want you to know that we had to let Lieutenant Dolan go this morning, we couldn't hold him, we didn't have anything to charge him with at the time so if there's any hope of getting him back behind bars it will be with your cooperation.” The penny finally dropped, Jaidyn was still out there somewhere. You forgot how to breathe at the relisation, it made you want to throw up. But you could barely speak as Rhett stepped a little closer to the officer who’d just thrown your entire world out of sync. 

“That kinda sounds like a threat to me?” Rhett growled, crossing his arms over his chest. Tim just sighed. “Where exactly do you get off? She's just been beaten half to death and you want her to speak out against her attacker knowing that he’s unhinged and could retaliate before you guys even lift a finger?” Rhett asked. “That sounds like she’d be sending out a beckon.” Sergeant Briggs wasn’t the bad guy here, if anything he was just trying to help and do his job. He’d been right about the fact the internal investigation was linked to Mr. Dolan. 

“Not a threat sir, just the truth, unless Miss Y/l/n here–” You didn't want to hear it, didn't want to hear that it was up to you to do something, you'd dealt with enough. You were in the hospital for crying out loud. You just wanted other people to do their job, for once. 

“I need the nurses.” You started as you looked around for your buzzer. “Rhett, I need these guys out of here before I lose my shit.” The corner of Rhett's mouth curled up as he cracked his knuckles, enjoying the role he played here for the first time since he stepped foot in California. “I need Jake and Braldey and I need my little girl—“ As of right on cue, Jake was round the corner into your room, shocked to see two officers and Admrial Simpson standing there. They shouldn’t have been here. Who the fuck let them in here? 

“Y/n?” Jake questioned and as if just hearing his voice made you shatter into a million trillion pieces. “Hey, s’going on?” He asked as he stepped past the three men who had bombarded your hospital room on their own accord, moving to their own agenda. “Hey, I’m here, yeah? I’ve got you, I'm here—“ Jake was at your side in seconds, holding you close as you broke. Just like Odette had done when she saw Rooster. “I'm here.” 

“You heard the lady gentleman,” Rhett smirked, cracking his knuckles to match the threat Sergeant Briggs had first given you. He knew by the painful sound of your cries into Jake's chest just how broken you really were. And that he was going to thoroughly enjoy stepping in front of you and whoever threatened you. “Now get the fuck out.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

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[discocandles]

Anytime I think about Steve, Eddie, Chrissy or Robin as famous musicians, I have to hold myself back from adding a shit ton of Lady Gaga references.

Like in the 2010s Lady Gaga appeared for an mtv music award show as this rugged, unkept greaser type character she made up named jo calderone. He's kinda known as "Lady Gaga's boyfriend that is also lady Gaga in drag". Steve Harrington, teen popstar trying to get away from his overbearing label would show up to the red carpet in drag as Amanda Miller, the girlfriend his label chose for him. She is dressed how they have their other popstar darling, Chrissy Cunningham dress. Amanda Miller later shows up in one of his music videos after he leaves the label. Both appearances of Amanda Miller cause mass bi panic online.

Speaking of fellow teen popstar Chrissy Cunningham, she starts openly thanking God and the Gays for the successes in her career. The label hates it, but they deal or else she's not gonna thank God either, causing problems with her religious fanbase(the impact of only letting her make ultra clean love songs for years). Also the idea of Chrissy disrespecting the interviewers who disrespect her is so healing. Think about it. Like yeah she ate that guy's script, and she'd do it again if he asks about her diet.

For rockstar eddie? So in Lady Gaga's song government hooker there's a spoken bit(not the jfk line the "back up and turn around" one). Those lines are spoken by Gaga's bodyguard Pete, who has a very thick Dutch accent after Lady gaga suddenly brought the idea that he be the "pervy robot voice" up during production.

Like Eddie would so do this, as I think creating songs gives him a lot of almost maniacal energy. Also for this one, the bodyguard is Italian Steve, but he's Jeff's bodyguard who Eddie's been constantly flirting with. That's perfectly fine by Eddie's actual bodyguard, who needs "a damn second to fucking breathe, you hyperactive bastard".

Indie rock vocalist Robin Buckley would have an album where she sings in like four different languages outside of English like lady Gaga did in born this way. And also sing in other languages fairly often. It's most often in French(like lady Gaga does), but every time Robin starts singing in a language that isn't English, the fans will scramble to figure out what tongue she's singing/speaking in now and what is she saying? What does google translate say she's saying?

There's paparazzi photos of vocalist Robin standing next to Jeff from Corroded Coffin but she's chatting in Italian with... his body guard? Apparently they met as teenagers on a trip abroad and became best friends then pen pals after. But we guess it evens out as robin's makeup artist/one woman glam team was best friends with Eddie in high school? And she won the prom queen tiara that CC wears in their iconic album cover. I dunno, just something that's been haunting my brain.

[cyb3rtarot]

Pick a Pile: autumn message + vibes + Halloween special

Hi everyone! I was not expecting this to be my first PAC but I felt called to do it. We’ll get a message of the season for you, the autumn vibes your energy gave off, and an extra message based on something spooky for Halloween! Hope you enjoy :]

Disclaimer: for entertainment only! The “autumn vibes” are Fall imagery that your energy reminded me of; “extra details” are real-life details of some people in the pile. I read with tarot, oracle, and my intuition. This reading used the Tarot of Mystical Moments, a recolored Smith-Waite tarot, and homemade oracle cards.

Pile 1 ➝Pile 2

Pile 3➝Pile4

Pile 1:

Message [the Empress rx, Death rx, the World rx|| ace of cups]: hi pile 1! You guys may be having trouble with the energy of release that the later months bring. There’s an overarching grief or melancholy for autumn; it feels like an emptiness where someone used to be. Try to have self compassion by getting extra rest and self care while you process emotions. Enjoying the celebratory or traditional energy of the holidays could brighten your spirits (even if you do something small by yourself); I do see many of you are very into Halloween and decorations. Pouring into self love and understanding is a good focal point. A portion of you are already in a committed relationship, and accepting the comfort and warmth of your partner will also be helpful.

Autumn vibes: black birds flying into a dusky sky, crystal balls, long black dresses, old movies, blurry/grainy videos, dark makeup and stiletto nails, matte lipstick, purple sunsets, hanging out with friends until night, denim jackets, dark rooms with old rugs, feeling deep nostalgia, looking through old photos and cameras, yellow street lights in empty parking lots, a vague but deep longing, skulls, pumpkins, visiting a relative, Warmth by Mityrion

Halloween extra—Vampire [five of wands, two of cups rx]: I channeled a vampire very strongly for you! Your energy came through before I decided to do the reading lol, you might have an imposing presence. There’s an alluring and magnetic aspect to you; others could feel hypnotized. The message I’m getting is you‘re attracting a lot of attention, and everyone wanting your energy may be overwhelming. Some of you have energy vampires around; those who make you ill at ease and are always seeking you even if it only causes conflict. You are more interested in solitude and peace. Some of you are content in a monogamous relationship and are getting bothered by others who have feelings for you. You may be bombarded with platonic or romantic invitations, and dance around people’s feelings with strategy so they don’t blow up at you. You are powerful and intelligent; make sure to protect your energy from draining sources!

Extra details: may tap fingers/fingernails on desk a lot, taking care of a grandma or was close to a passed grandma (for some of you I’m seeing white hair in a big bun/updo and circular glasses), missing passed loved ones in general. Meghan Markle or the British royal family could be significant? Black hair, curled bangs, interest in the occult. Twilight (both the time of day and the movies/books), “dark” feminine or femme fatale energy, someone madly in love or infatuated, Bojack Horseman, scorpio, 8th house, dances

~~~

Pile 2:

Message [the Moon rx, three of pentacles, Judgment|| the Sun]: hi pile 2! The energy of autumn you guys seem to be embodying is harvest and celebration! It looks like this year has been a journey in terms of healing repressed parts of yourself (heavily related to your Halloween message). After putting in the work, the current time is about enjoying the fruits of your healing. You’ve come out of the lessons with a greater capacity for appreciation and joy. For most of you, it looks like your loved ones or peers have been a big part of this growth; I do see you guys like to spend a lot of time out with friends. You have a clean slate for this new version of yourself, and you’re encouraged to continue basking in the blessings with those you love.

Autumn vibes: soft cotton flannels, knit hats (with pom-poms), boots, rural areas/small towns, orange leaves scattered everywhere, long walks, hanging out with your friends in the middle of nowhere until nightfall, hot coffee, hot chocolate with marshmallows, the woods, leather jackets, knit scarves, snowy mountains in the horizon, stepping on leaves even when they’re not crunchy, getting scared while exploring old buildings, local scary legends, snow crunching underfoot, trying to warm your hands, baking, drinking hot apple cider when it’s ice-cold out

Halloween extra—Cryptid [the Empress, the Star]: I channeled a cryptid for you pile 2! I don’t know a lot about specific cryptids, but I was mainly seeing something very hairy, humanoid, and bat-like. A small portion of you may resonate more with the Loch Ness Monster. The message I’m getting here is you guys have or are currently recognizing who you are and accepting that. In the past you may have conformed to others’ standards and this bred self hate or lack of self entirely. A place of self love and understanding is the focus, where you accept all your quirks and individuality even if others can’t. Some of you may be making peace with your expression of gender after turning away from it. You’re removing parts of yourself that are inauthentic or performative, and this is fueling the blessings you’re currently receiving!

Extra details: glasses (particularly a thick black frame), buying coffee (or hot drinks) out very frequently, taking aesthetic Instagram pics, the midwest, very cold Fall and Winter, small but close friend groups, light blonde hair, clumsy, hesitant, patient, moving somewhere warm or farther south; relatives with a thick Southern accent, bread, drawing/painting, millennials, the British Isles, Samhain

~~~

Pile 3:

Message [king of wands, the Emperor rx, the Fool rx|| the Sun]: hello pile 3! Interestingly, all the piles so far are getting similar advice in different fonts 😅. You are also getting a message about embodying the more joyous aspects of Fall’s harvest energy. You guys are in a mindset of doing what needs to be done according to your responsibilities and not much more. You may feel dissatisfied with the same old routine but not feeling up to doing anything else. This is the stoic farmer bringing in his crops to prepare for Winter rather than a lively harvest festival (metaphorically). You’re being encouraged to embrace that latter energy and warm your spirits in some Fall celebration—even if it’s finding ways to cheer yourself up in your head. Clouds do give way to sunshine!

Autumn vibes [TW paranoia, creepiness]: a single light on in pitch blackness, going to the kitchen in the dead of night, feeling alone yet watched, staring into the void, cloudy and dusty blue skies, cool coastal towns, eerie emptiness, liminal spaces, lighthouses, cold waves breaking on rocks, quiet solitude, lovecraftian-horror novels, the smell of tobacco, libraries in the evening, dark circles, feeling like the only person in the world, blurry faces in the distance

Halloween extra—Ghost [the Tower, the Empress]: many of you already feel like a ghost, disconnected from everything. A major upset happened that you’re still not “over.” This event shook you to the core and even destroyed some sense of self. Afterwards until now, you’ve been going through the motions and trying to survive, but not really “living.” However, I see that the metaphorical dust has settled. Now that things are not so unstable, you can come out of just “being” and start “doing.” What felt like the end was not, it was the prologue for something new.

Extra details: being blunt, the month of October or number 10 could be significant (besides it being Halloween), sitting in shopping carts, nihilism/apathy, smoking, denim jackets, the NorthEast US or cold, coastal areas. Reading. A town with a very small population. Big, empty parking lots, Lorde (particularly the song Team), feeling numb, grief, spooky video games, having lost a friend or friends being worried about you, being the breadwinner or living alone, dominant, money, spark of hope, standing alone on the beach

~~~

Pile 4:

Message [the Star rx, seven of wands, the Moon|| king of pentacles]: hi pile 4! It feels like you guys have been in a situation where stress is mounting very slowly but constantly. You could feel upcoming respite, but you’re not quite there yet. For a lot of you this feels like holding out for an upcoming break (maybe a holiday break). You guys are embodying the liminal, aimless energy that the last moments of the year bring. You may already feel like you’re in those strange days right before New Year’s where everything feels up in the air and you have no idea what’s going to happen; there’s a sense of not knowing what to do in the future. That’s what potential feels like! Autumn is reminding you that success and bounty comes out of uncertainty.

Autumn vibes: reading comic books in the evening by lamplight, making a big deal of your Halloween costume, trick or treating, costume parties, mounds of candy, watching the Sun fall behind the cityscape, old TVs, watching cartoons and funny Halloween movies into the night, wrapping in a tiny blanket, leaves brushing past while you walk, going to other neighborhoods to see the holiday decorations, varsity jackets, hands in your pockets, seeing your breath in the air, days getting short but feeling long, indulging childhood nostalgia, kids running down the street with capes, enjoying the cool air

Halloween extra—Shadow Person [the Star, page of wands]: for you guys, I’m channeling shadow people. I heard, “he’s just standing there… menacingly!!” Funnily, for other pile’s Halloween specials their energy and message matched the creature well, but for you guys it feels different. I think it’s because you have a more lighthearted energy, like if you were a shadow person you would troll people for laughs lol. Anyway, your cards seem to say the same thing! You guys have already gone in and out of really dark times—you’ve been in the shadow and separated your identity from it. Even if you’re in one right now, you’re not at the lowest point you’ve been and there’s potential for positive change. You’ve gone through the ringer probably more than once. You’re trying to ride the waves of life with a laugh after seeing the cyclical ridiculousness. You’re encouraged to use what you’ve been through to examine life from a new perspective of both light and shadow. Other people may not understand you at all without having your experience, but their perception doesn’t determine what you are or do.

Extra details: you guys may REALLY like comic book superheroes and villains (specifically DC; catwoman and the penguin? Also Spiderman), the hat man, goofy energy, conventions, an urban area with a lot of beige + brown buildings, swinging your hands while you walk, jacket pockets, high school, peace, religious friends or community, baptisms, lively churches, cartoon crossovers, planning to move once you finish this chapter of life, water is a very significant element; you might like sea animals, deep emotional world, strength, graduations, coming off as intimidating, not knowing what to do next, winter break, missionaries, Steve Lacy, Freddy Krueger

[alexthesillybilly]

every so often i think about that video i watched that was supposed to be one of those "satisfying cleaning asmr" videos but it was a rug that straight up. just looked like springtrap not even kidding

[stupidlovergirl]

Human TV I Think They'd Watch

All the Bros and Dateables

Dev Notes:I have been watching Kitchen Nightmares while writing and how I think Barbatos might like it,, and then it lead to what human world TV they might like,,, maybe spent a little to much time on it instead of working on WIPs

Lucifer

Really likes old people TV

He watches things like How It’s Made, National Geographic documentaries, if he wants a little laugh those shows about “aliens”. Skin Walker Ranch is his dirty little side piece TV show

He just enjoys educational shows because they are easy to tune out

Really loves Soap Operas. Young and the Restless and General Hospital are kept up with religiously(hah). He, Diavolo, and Barbatos usually watch it. Dia really likes it and Barbatos watches when working with Dia second hand while doing work. He latched on after watching it in the background a few times.

Also, just the news. Mans will put on a 24 hour news station and will keep it on for like, 5 days. 

Mammon

He watches Harrison Porter, so give him the joy that is Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit.

Would also enjoy the Spiderwick Chronicles movie since he doesn’t know how bad it was compared to the books

Just a big fantasy fan honestly. Loves them.

On another note, he also loves trashy reality TV and News. The only one who beats out his love for celebrity gossip is Asmo. When he is putting on a TV show to go brain dead to its something from TLC, like 90 Day Fiance, I Love a Mama’s Boy, etc. 

He watches the Kentucky Derby, bets on it a lot (loses a lot too)

His dirty secret show/movies are Hallmark movies. He watches them when he won’t get caught. Hopeless romantic nerd (Affectionate)

Leviathan

You’re joking

You’re joking right?

Anime or DIE!!! (/hj)

Also really popular fantasy movies based on books. He will rip them to shreds when you watch them. Can be fun if you read the books, annoying if you haven’t.

Has a soft spot for magical girl animes, obvi

There isn’t really much to elaborate on, half of his personality is anime and nerd stuff.

Just a few favorites I think he might have with no explanation:

Tokyo Mew Mew, Yugi-Oh, Death Note, Naruto, Angel Beats, Lucky Star, Soul Eater, Watamote, Saint Tail, and Cowboy Bebop

Satan

King of detective shows

He loves trying to find them out

It is canon he loves the Devildom equivalent of Midsomer Murders, so just show him that too

I think he would like Forensic Files too.

Also, thriller movies. And psychological horror movies.

He loves them, he typically can predict an ending, but it's nice to see how they write out how the characters themselves find out

Asmo

Trashy reality TV!!!!!

He and Mammon watch 90 Day and Mama's boy and talk shit about them.

Loves Maury, Jerry Springer (rip my king), Parent Court when he's feeling a little frisky

Next Top Model and RuPaul's Drag Race. It's about the DRAMA! The OUTFITS!

Watched part of Euphoria but honestly? Found it mid. Sorry but he just couldn't understand the hype after the writing started to plummet.

Has watched Jersey Shore, will not elaborate on his opinion.

Tbh, he also doesn't really watch much because he feels like he has better things to do with his time, he only watches it for Brotherly Bonding, and for background noise

Beel

Haha, big guy hardly watches TV

Watches workout videos primarily

He likes learning new work out and dietary things

Has been banned from watching any type of food shows. Sorry Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.

Will participate in movie night, primarily for food, buhe does pay attention

Honestly just watches whatever someone else typically puts on with no complaint

Belphie

Much like his twin, doesn't typically seek out TV watching.

Much easier to watch on his phone

He does enjoy satisfying videos

Watches Rug cleaning videos, silly ASMR videos, Video essays when he can't sleep and gets curious. Loves obscure media and icebergs.

The essays are about the only thing that goes on the TV

Sorry but he just doesn't care much.

Will also participate in movie night, almost always falls asleep. Still can tell you the entire plot of the film.

On a very rare occasion will watch South Park. Will not elaborate on this one.

Solomon

Loves old TV shows to some newer ones

I Love Lucy, The Twilight Zone, The Muppet Show

I cant really explain the Muppet Show, but I know its true, it is in my bones

Honestly loves older sitcoms. They just hit different.

Can I mention I Dreamed a Genie and Bewitched? Classics in his eyes. Would fight to the death for them

Will make a off hand comment on how he doesn't feel like TV is the same anymore

Watches reality TV in the background when Asmo turns it on when he lounges in either one of their rooms

I feel like I just can't explain most of these, but they are the truth in my heart and that is enough

Simeon

Haha...What?

Watches whatever Luke or Solomon puts on or whatever someone else would suggest

He has a preference for books most of the time I feel like. Just goes with the flow

Just suggest something and he'll put it up for the next movie night when it's his choice

I really can't think of one he would pick oops.

Barbatos

He watches whatever Diavolo puts on in the background. Likes the Soap Operas some times, gets a little annoyed with anime voices when he has a migraine.

Kitchen Nightmares and Hell's Kitchen just hits right for him. Loves the insults

He doesn't much watch TV either though. Prefers audio books since they are easier to carry around

You essentially have to beg to watch TV with him, he's a busy butler ya'know?

Diavolo

KING OF FLEXIBILITY

Has watched all of it, and will continue to do so.

Has a special place for Soap Operas and Ruri-Chan

Seen all the classics, the new block busters, all of it

Honestly you wonder how he gets the time?

He really likes consuming stuff, so he does it when he is working on paper work he puts on the subtitles and turning the audio on low and going HAM

Couldn't be me, I would get distracted

For the most part he's watched it all, and what he hasn't is on his to watch list. He just likes talking to his friends about it :)

Luke

GREAT! BRITISH! BAKE! OFF!

He likes seeing the different foods

It inspires him so much, it's so cute watching his eyes sparkle as he sees something he likes and he writes it down on his phone

Also, he really likes watching Bluey. He lets Simeon and Solomon, and Barbatos found out (because he knows everything), but would DIE if anyone else found out

Also likes early 80's and bad CG horror movies. Kid literally laughs and Mammon is losing his mind next to him. I think because of the bad effects it makes it more tolerable.

Killer Klowns from Outer Space slaps man what can the kid say?

I think I'm projecting hard onto him,, but he's my son so it doesn't matter

[hot-take-tournament]

ngl kind of breaks my heart to see you used one of those ai bot things after the entire vocaloid debate. i really don't like that you did that and i'm a little disappointed. can you please not do that again?

I know - I do need to address this before anything else, because I fucked up

Please read the whole thing

If any of you don't know the context of this ask;

Basically, a while back I used the program AI Dungeon to generate a hot take for fun;

That's the program they use for those chaotic AI videos you find on youtube, like the ai ace attorney clown case and the sonic destruction scripts, which has some absolutely wild moments like these

I just put in a couple one-sentence questions to see what it would give me, not really expecting anything. But the take it did finally give me was not only completely depraved, but also felt like such a weirdly personal attack on me specifically that it left me genuinely speechless.

So, even though I didn't originally intend to do this, I decided to secretly make a poll for it claiming it was a submission, because I thought it might be fun to see if you guys could guess which one of the polls was the fake one, Blade Runner style.

I generated the take on the same day that submissions originally closed, but I only came clean about it last night because I started to feel super guilty about it after reading the vocaloid discourse - but the way I did it was vague, shitty and insincere.

I know it was 4 in the morning and I said I was going to get some sleep when I made the post last night, but after I saw the asks I immediately got about that post - like this one - I instead deleted it after like 2 minutes and spent the next 4-5 hours scouring the internet for as much information about this as I could find so I could get the full picture. This isn't the first time I fucked up on this blog because I didn't do my research, so I think I massively overcompensated - I really didn't want a repeat of that time the master post accidentally triggered multiple people's OCD; I still feel awful about that.

And as a result, I ended up passing out on my bathroom floor, which is why you haven't heard from me in a while.

I did genuinely read all the vocaloid discourse (asks, replies, notes, all of it) - but since I pulled this stunt ages ago, and the secret poll is already up, it was already too late. And it was because of that vocaloid discourse that I felt like it would just make me a hypocrite if I just swept it under the rug and kept quiet while everyone else was talking about the exact same subject, so I decided to just tell you guys as soon as possible because I'd feel shitty if I didn't - but I still phrased that post in a more light-hearted way because that was what I originally intended this whole thing to be, which was definitely a mistake, and I can't apologise enough for that.

And I know I didn't clarify this in that original post, but like I said, the program I used was AI Dungeon, which was something I remembered having fun with back in 2019/2020, spending hours generating unhinged Ace Attorney cases; and I remembered I still had an account from back then when it was still free to play, even though I hadn't touched it in 4 years - and I realised I would still be able to bypass the paywall using it.

I'd also just watched those snapcube Sonic Destruction videos that I linked above and it reminded me of that. And I dug up those old AI Dungeon Ace Attorney cases that I had generated and then recreated in objection i.o. back when I was 17/18, and had been sitting on my old computer's hard drive for ever since - and they still made me smile a little. So that's how I got the impulse to do this.

And that's also why, even though I knew about the writer's strike and do fully support it, it just didn't occur to me that the AI that gave us that same insane Sonic Destruction script that I'd just watched would be one of the programs the writers were striking over - I just assumed that it was only programs like ChatGPT, that can produce coherent scripts based on the accumulated information users feed into it; because those are programs that could definitely potentially be used to replace human writers. That's something AI Dungeon can't do, because it doesn't retain user input after you shut it down.

So I just saw AI Dungeon as that goofy ass confused AI that I loved as a kid, the one that provides insanely weird responses out of the blue as it desperately tries to cobble together a narrative, and it was used in videos that I still really like. And I thought it would be fine.

That was how I justified it at the time - but in hindsight, given how much I hate other GPT programs like ChatGPT, as well as AI art and all other generated content overall, it just makes me even more of a stupid hypocrite for making an exception for this one simply because I was blinded by nostalgia, and not bothering to look it up back then like I should've done. Because at the end of the day, a GPT program is a GPT program.

SO - Here's what I found online while reading up on it last night:

Because of the outdated GPT model AI Dungeon runs on, it isn't possible from a technical standpoint for it to learn like ChatGPT does. Even though it still uses a dataset, as far as I can tell it genuinely can't add to that dataset from user input except for when it explicitly asks for feedback (rarely, it will generate two responses instead of one, and ask you to pick the best one so it can learn - but you can turn that feature off.) And while it does try to learn while you're using it, it can't carry that information over between sessions. So even if you reload the same page again, it won't retain what it learned last time.

(Here's some information I found while combing ancient reddit threads that explains this better than I can)

But even if all of that is true, it doesn't matter.

Latitude, the developers of AI Dungeon, are super fucking scummy, and you shouldn't support them.

If you want to look up all of the many, many controversies surrounding AI Dungeon, you can - but I won't link them here, because serious content warnings apply.

Do not use this program.

I really hope the anon who sent this ask - and everyone else who called me out on this - stuck around, because I am so, so grateful that you all sent these, otherwise I probably would never have known.

I deleted the post almost instantly (because like I said, it was too light-hearted), and I'm really glad I did. And I swear I won't pull this shit again.

I know a lot of you hate the fact that I did this - that original post genuinely got me blocked by more of you guys than every single one of the polls combined - which is totally fair, and I wouldn't blame any of you for doing the same now.

I really just want to move on from this - but I can't just pretend that it didn't happen.

Support the writer's strike, don't use any AI programs.

I'm really sorry about this, and the fact that I didn't take it seriously enough - like I said, I promise it won't happen again.

</3

[obsidiancreates]

Something Strange Comes To Santa Barbra

(This may be the most Niche thing I've ever posted. @poltertoast this is for you, it's not the previously discussed crossover concepts but I might do those later)

Shawn ducks under the police tape and jogs right up to Lassiter. "This better be good Lassie. Gus and were just about to crush one of those restaurant food challenges down at a dumpling place."

"Just get inside." Lassiter gives Shawn a slight shove, and Gus makes sure to stay out of Lassiter's arm range as he follows.

Shawn's eyes go right to the wall; there's a huge bloodstain, and it's configuration is... strange. It looks more like a movie, or a video game, than a regular splatter pattern. His focus zeros in on one of the two beds next, highlighting an abandoned contraption that looks like an old GameBoy Color altered with all sorts of computer chips and wires and antenna. There's a book laying on the floor, open but page-down to show both the front and back cover in full. The Paranormal Prince: Ghost Hunting With Royal Blood by one Johnny Toast.

Shawn chuckles and nudges Gus. "Dude, read the name on that book."

"What boo- ... Johnny Toast?"

"Johnny Toast," Jules confirms, walking over to them. "Late twenties to early thirties, British, and presumed dead."

"Whoa, whoa. Presumed dead?" Shawn looks at the wall. "Seriously?"

"No body," Jules says with a sigh. "No blood trail indicating how it was moved, no missing sheets, and the owner of the condo says they didn't have any rugs. CSI didn't find any evidence of cleaning supplies, and no reports of gunshots in the area at the suspected time of attack."

"No gunshots?" Shawn looks again at the wall. It's really bothering him, he swears he's seen a pattern like that before but he knows it wasn't in real life.

Jules nods to the wall. "There's some deep gauges out of the plaster, we're thinking knife carvings. Murderer must've hit an artery, which makes the lack of blood anywhere else even stranger."

"No kidding. There's not even any on the floor." Gus keeps his eyes off the blood, and it's almost disturbingly easy to do so. The rest of the room is mostly spotless, save a strange image almost... superimposed onto the wall. A blue square, a red triangle, and a yellow V.

"What about this?" Shawn gestures at it. "Does the condo owner have the worst taste ever, or is this a calling card?"

"We looked into it, apparently it's a popular graffiti symbol in the victim's hometown."

"What town?"

Jules starts to say, and then takes in a deep breath. "Don't laugh," she warns. "Both the vic and the suspect are from a town in North Carolina called... Little Butts."

Shawn and Gus fail to not laugh. Jules looks like she wants to laugh too, but Lassiter walks into the room at that moment.

"You told them where they're from, didn't you?"

"They asked."

"After we agreed not to tell them because laughing at a murder scene is asinine."

"Ass," Shawn mumbles, and he and Gus laugh again.

"Just-! Tell us if you see anything." Lassiter gestures around the room. "Chief just called and she wants this to be top priority, apparently there's a serial killer from that town and she wants to make sure he's not taking a vacation in Santa Barbra."

"Well maybe I'd have a better sense of the case if you told me who the suspect is."

Jules nods while Lassiter scowls. "Johnny Ghost-"

"Johnny Toast and Johnny Ghost? Are they cartoon characters?" Gus whispers to Shawn. Jules ignores it.

"-late twenties, owner said he's short with red-brown hair and brown eyes, always wears a gray hoodie with this logo on it." She shows them a drawing.

Gus scoffs. "They spelled it wrong."

"What?"

"That's the symbol for Pi, Shawn. Three-point-one-four-one-five-nine, and then continues on forever? It's a fundamental of math."

"It's a fundamental of a good diet is what it is."

"It's a pun," Jules says. "They ran a ghost hunting business together, Paranormal Investigators Extraordinaire. At least, that's what the owner said Johnny Ghost screamed at him when they introduced themselves."

Shawn looks back over at the beds. Now the DS makes sense... "So that's why the Chief wants me? See if there's a... spiritual connection? Maybe this Ghost fellow got possessed and offed his partner?"

"And to find the body, and Ghost himself. He was seen leaving the house alone around the time of the attack on some nearby security cameras, and hasn't come back to the house since."

Shawn nods, half-listening as his eyes travel around the room again and he does a slow, lazy-looking turn. He hones in on a business card, the corner just barely visible under the left bed.

"OH!" He dramatically drops to the floor, trying to make it look like he was yanked. "Oh, the spirits are strong here! But they're scared, yes, of the ghost hunters, they weren't ready to contact me before but now!" Shawn drags himself across the floor in one motion and snatches the card, jumping back up. "Now they're screaming! Crying out saying-!"

He discreetly peeks at the card and then holds it up to his forehead, text-side facing out at the 'crowd' that is his friends and fellow investigators. "Santa Barbra School Of Dance!"

Lassiter stalks over and grabs the card, reading it for himself. "Who the hell did the sweep?" he growls. "O'Hara, bag it as evidence!"

As Jules does, Shawn catches sight of a handwritten phone number on the front. Who writes extra notes on the front of a business card?

"Let's bring in the owner of the dance studio and find out what they know." Lassiter looks at Shawn and Gus. "Stay out of my interrogation."

"No problem, Lassie." Shawn puts his hand up in promise. As soon as Jules and Lassiter leave, Shawn drops to the floor again and reaches further under the bed.

"What're you doing?" Gus crouches down. "Did you find more blood?"

"No, Gus, no blood. But I saw this-" Shawn pulls out one of those lockable pencil cases. "-while I was grabbing the card. Here, give me a bobby pin or something."

"Why would I have a bobby pin?"

"I don't know, you're the one who loves cracking safes-es."

"Safes."

"I've heard it both ways."

"This is barely something you can crack anyway, just force it open."

"Force it open? Yeah, right. Do you know how many of these I tried to force open in middle school because someone wouldn't lend a pencil?"

"You lost it every time! My parents were gonna go broke buying that many pencils for me!"

"Just, find something I can jimmy this open with!"

They end up finding the key also under the bed, and popping it open they find... a box of macaroni.

"What the hell?" Gus picks it up and turns it around. "I've never even heard of this brand. Lettuce Squirrel Whiskey and 'Roni?"

"Why is there a dinosaur on the front? Man, that was a total bust, I really thought it'd be important. ... Let's go check out that dance studio."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dude, what kind of dance studio has a teenage mutant ninja turtle as it's mascot?" Shawn turns, keeping his eye on the oddly swaying figure just outside the door until they're fully through. Something about it is bothering him... but he can't quite place his finger on what.

When they push open the door, there's a woman chatting with the receptionist. As soon as the first woman sees them, her face contorts into a nasty scowl. "Oh, no! Get out, you- you spineless rubes!"

Shawn and Gus freeze and put their hands up and take a step back in unison.

"Whoa!"

"Coming on a little strong considering you've never met us," Gus huffs.

"Yes I have," she seethes. "Over the phone, three months ago! I contacted your agency to investigate a haunting for me!"

"A haunting?" Shawn looks at Gus, who shrugs. "Which one of us did you talk to?"

"You." She points at Shawn. Her scowl could rival Lassiter's, maybe even Henry's. "And you told me to seek help!"

"That doesn't sound like me." Shawn casts his memory back. "Wait... were you the one who said that Donatello the turtle was haunting you?"

"All four of them!" she snaps. "And yes! Yes, I did! And you never came by! And it kept happening so I had to hire some out-of-town specialists-"

"Johnny Ghost and Johnny Toast of P.I.E?" Shawn asks, hand by his temple.

She blinks. It seems to shock her out of at least some of her rage. "Yes. Yes, and-and now I have bullet holes all over my studio."

"Bullet holes?!" Gus ducks. "They shot up the place?!"

"They had guns?"

"Yes, and yes! They saw one of the ghosts and-and I don't even know where they pulled the guns from, but it got away and they chased after it!"

"Did you call the police?"

"Not until that damn ghost is- oh, for heaven's sake!" Her eyes focus on something behind them and she storms to the door, flinging it open. "GET OUT OF HERE!"

It dawns on Shawn what disturbed him about the figure outside.

It hadn't been swaying in the wind at all. It had been bobbing like a person waiting.

The figure, Raphael by the mask color, shouts in fear as the woman screams at him-

And then phases through the floor and disappears.

Shawn freezes, the sight so not computing that it breaks him for a second. Gus's eyes go so wide they may try to run away since their owner isn't, and then they roll back up in his head and he collapses.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They sit in the Psych office, Gus nervous-eating an entire box of dry cereal while Shawn has his hands pressed together and covering his mouth, eyes trained on the floor.

They haven't spoken since they watched the Ninja Turtle Ghost phase through solid ground.

Their phone rings again. Neither pick it up.

It's silent for another hour until Jules runs by the window, sees them both inside, and runs in.

"We've been trying to reach you guys for hours, we have-! ... What happened?"

Shawn flattens his hands against his face and rubs it. Gus raches into the now-empty cereal bag, pulls out nothing, "eats" the nothing, and then repeats without ever blinking.

"Seriously," Jules sits down on the couch in the nook. "What happened?"

Shawn drags his hands down his face. "Those uh... those ghost hunters were onto something big," he croaks out. "Real... real big."

"How big?" Jules leans in. "Because that might make our findings make a little more sense."

"You uh... you talked to the dance studio owner?"

"Yes, but we didn't get anywhere. She just insisted that she was haunted and we find them so they can finish the job. What we did find out is that Johnny Toast is..." She shakes her head. "I don't even know how this is possible, but he's the grandson of the Queen of England."

"He's what?" It's jarring enough to snap Shawn out of his complete Brain Breakage. "Why's he in America hunting ghosts?"

"No clue. But it means our list of suspects got a whole lot bigger, and Interpol might get involved. This could become a diplomatic incident. You didn't find out anything related to that?"

"Uh, no. No, we... we didn't. Our thing seems stupid now." It doesn't. But how the hell does he explain why he, a supposed psychic, is rattled by a ghost?

Jules shrugs, putting her hands up and then plopping them back in her lap. "I'll take anything you've got."

"... Well, um... I see violence. Yes, great, great violence. They were both very experienced with guns, and had them on their persons during this trip."

"But there were no signs of gunshots at the hotel. ... Which might mean this was pre-meditated! It was done quietly, no witnesses- shoot, it's looking more and more like we'll have to get overseas offices involved." Jules stands up. "Thanks, guys. But answer your phone next time! Lassiter almost got the Chief to kick you off the case for ignoring us."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Okay, what've you got?" Shawn looks up at Gus from across the room.

"Almost nothing." Gus frowns at his laptop as he scrolls. "It's like this 'Little Butts' place barely exists. All I've found is a bunch of sci-fi and fantasy forums where some kid named TheMightySpence with threes instead of E's is complaining about living there."

"Dang it. I'm not getting anything much better. There's a few clips on the internet of these ghost hunting guys, a TV commercial, and some kind of... fan club website for Toast. None of it gives me any motive, in fact, these guys were best friends by the looks of it! There's mentions of them growing up together, Toast lost his mind once because Ghost disappeared according to this clip from some terrible TV show I found, it just... doesn't add up. And all I can find on this 'serial killer' from that town is urban legends."

"This case is beyond us, Shawn. Real ghosts, and now a town that doesn't really exist, and it's an international incident? We're in over our heads!"

"I know!" Shawn shuts his laptop. "But we can't just back out because our entire worldviews were shattered, Gus, because the police think I already believe in ghosts!"

"Tell them that this one is something you've never seen!"

"It is something I've never seen!"

"I know tha-!"

"Excuse me?"

They look up. In the doorway stands a tall, handsome man, with stylish stubble and clothes fit for some type of fancy business party. He has a posh British accent, and...

He's definitely the guy from the book cover.

"Sorry to drop in uninvited, I saw you were closed but the door wasn't unlocked so I ah, let myself in. I was wondering if you'd be available to help me and my partner?"

Gus makes a high-pitched squeal-scream sound from deep in his throat. Shawn stands up, slowly, and goes to swipe his arm through the man's body.

"OW!" The man grabs his arm where Shawn slapped it. "Sir! They're hostile!"

"I'M COMING, JOHHNY!"

A short man in a grey hoodie comes racing in, gun drawn! "BACK UP A SECOND THERE, SNICKERS, OR I'LL SHOOT YOU RIGHT IN THE FACE!"

Gus lets the scream out fully and backs up against the wall while Shawn quickly draws away with a scream of his own. Ghost keeps his gun on Shawn as Toast rubs his arm.

After a long moment of Shawn and Gus screaming, Shawn is able to take in a few details. He hones in on the various stains all over Ghost's hoodie, some of which are unmistakably blood, meaning he doesn't wash it. There's dark circles around his eyes, and bags, and his clothes are hanging pretty loosely on him. So he can't take care of himself very well, may even have mental problems.

Toast is very well put together, and completely unphased by the response of a gun to a slap. He called out for Ghost, so he knew this would happen. Despite Ghost being smaller, and Toast being literal royalty, he called Ghost sir, so Ghost is both the wildcard and the one in charge. Given the terrifying glint in Ghost's extremely tired eyes, Shawn thinks that's not the best arrangement they could've come to.

"Alright," Shawn says, breathing heavily from the adrenaline, "Let's all calm down here!"

"Us?! You hurt Johnny!"

"I thought he was a ghost at first!"

"Why would he be a ghost?!"

"Because we're investigating his murder right now, which you are- were- the main suspect of!"

"Oh." Ghost looks at his partner. "Yeah, I killed him last night."

"That doesn't make any sense! He's here, he's real!"

"... Yes?" Ghost sounds genuinely confused. "Because it was last night? Of course he's fine now. After we went to the dance studio and got chased out by those turtle ghosts we got to the condo and the studio left him in a dancing mood, and then I caught him having macaroni! He was so out of it he almost did The British Disco right in front of me, so I killed him before he could!"

"Still sorry about that, sir."

"But how is he here if you killed him?"

"And what the hell does macaroni have to do with this?! And what's The British Disco?!" Gus keeps his distance, though his fear has subsided a bit.

Only a bit.

"We called Billy and everything was fine!" Ghost snaps as if that means anything. "And macaroni is a drug, obviously, and The British Disco is a dance so beautiful that it kills you if you see it and aren't either British or already dead!"

"If you can just come back from the dead-"

"Back from the dead, don't'ca just love bein' back from the dead," Ghost sings suddenly.

"... Right, sure. If you can just come back from the dead, why'd you have to kill him so you wouldn't die?"

"That's a different kind of dying!"

"There's only one kind!"

"Sir," Toast pipes up, "It seems this is one of those places. Where they don't follow the normal rules of reality."

Ghost's scowl disappears. "You're right, Johnny! Oh, I hate these places." The gun suddenly disappears from his hands. "Alright, let's try this all again. Ahem. I am JOHNNY GHOST, PARANORMAL INVESTIGATOR EXTRAORDINAIRE, AND THIS IS MY PARTNER JOHNNY TOAST! Together we are P.I.E!"

Shawn nods, taking another step back. Situation diffused... for now. "Shawn Spencer, psychic detective," he says carefully. "This is my partner Nebulous Nevins."

Gus doesn't wave, but he does stop trying to melt into the wall so hard.

"Well, now that we're all ah, acquainted, could we... ask for your help?" Toast ventures. "See, our coworkers stayed back home and it turns out there's four ghosts at-"

"The Santa Barbra School Of Dance?" Shawn says, putting his hand to his head.

"Yes, exactly. We don't have any guns to spare you at the moment, however-"

"We don't do guns," Gus says quickly. "Not with ghosts."

"Well that's stupid," Ghost scoffs. "What do you do when they attack you?"

"I'm a psychic, not a ghost hunter. The spirits are generally on my side."

"You sound like Spooker. Let's go Johnny, apparently we have to clear up your supposed murder with the police!" Ghost grabs Toast's arm and drags him out.

It takes a full fifteen minutes for Shawn and Gus to relax after the two leave. Gus screams intermittently for five of those minutes. Shawn screams with him.

By the end they're collapsed in their chairs, completely unwound.

"... They're going to get arrested," Shawn says faintly. "If they tell that same story."

"Or put in an institution," Gus agrees.

"... Why do I get the feeling they won't stay in either one of those?"

"There's also still a real ghost in that studio."

"Yeah..." Shawn blinks, and then sits up. "Dude. Toast said coworkers. There's more of them!"

Gus looks horrified. "Who might come here looking for them, or to finish the job at the studio!"

"Close up shop." Shawn pulls the blinds down. "Gus, I can't believe I'm saying this, but we need to keep those two guys out of prison so they can solve that turtle thing and get out of Santa Barbra!"

"How are we supposed to do that?! They're living in a completely different reality, Shawn! One word to Lassie and Jules will be enough!"

"I don't know! I-I'll think of something on the ride, but we are so not dealing with more than two people like that! I feel like my brain is trying to fry itself! Did you see the gun just disappear?!"

"Into thin air! They've gotta be some kind of demons!"

"With the way this case is going, I wouldn't be surprised."

[asmallpinkfan3]

Modern time Death having a phone and having TikTok with his s/o hc’s!

Totally not inspired by me watching TikTok in the bathroom.

GN reader, who kind of has Gen z humor cause I’m gen z.

You somehow convinced the wolf to get a phone, how you did it was simple.

“Babe please could you at least get a phone because I wanna send you photos of random things in the house while your gone”?

He agreed and soon enough you spammed him with random messages of, “hey can you run by the store and get some soap we’re out”. “I love you”. “AMERICA RAWWW 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🦅🦅🦅”. He was so confused when you sent him the American one.

He takes selfies of him in random places after collected a soul and oh my god he has that face book dad angle.

He also sends you pictures of random animals sitting in nature being absolutely beautiful.

He once sent a picture of two random wolves together and he was said under the picture: “us”?

You have him under alpha in your phone cause why not.

He has you under “my amor”.

His user on tiktok is literally “death.straight.up.”

He likes all your vids.

Your his first follower on the app, and moot.

You send him videos of that spinning cow with the polish song in background.

If you post art videos on their he compliments all of them.

He doesn’t post anything on his account.

He got into an fight on their with an 11 year old after they called his user “edgy wanna be”.

Sometimes you send him cat videos with the caption “please can we get a cat”? And he’s always like “no”.

He reposts nature videos.

If you like rug cleaning videos, ( just like me) he sends you all the ones that he sees on his fyp.

Any romantic TikTok you see you send it to him and your like “us Fr”.

He had to ask you what Fr meant.

Yk those videos where people are on the ground pretending to be wolves with the song in the background “I’m the alpha I’m the leader in the one to trust”. You spam him with those when your bored.

you you will fall asleep on him watching a cleaning video at 3 in the morning.

And he just puts your phone on the charger and just snuggles up with you in your bed.

You send photos of what your cooking before he gets home and your like “we are having ‘food’ tonight hope that’s ok with you”.

He sends back a 👍.

[harisenbon]

Y'all people are seriously so nice

I'm always blown away by how nice you people all are when you leave me comments. I feel super awkward replying to them all and I'm sorry that I don't. I swear I'm not trying to act stoic or anything, I just don't know what to say back when you send me such nice notes. Sorry for being shy.

I've been so encouraged by the notes and comments I've gotten over the last couple years since I've been working on stories to put out there. Thanks for being the real MVPs :)

I've been reading back over my own stories lately and picked my favorites and least favorites.

My first story, "Wishes and Prayers" is a mess. I had half a mind to orphan it but couldn't do it, so I'm working to clean it up just so I don't feel bad about people reading it and expecting better.

It wasn't as popular and the comments were sort of mixed/surprised, but my favorite is "Always Almost Dead." :) it was fun to write, but understandably less fun to read. The reader character doesn't have much chemistry with Rengoku but was interesting for me to work with, probably because that reader character was lazily just based on me. Lol. also, you get the bad ending.

Working out "Mukbang" right now; 3 chapters up on AO3 and one last one to go. I'm about done writing, just have to do the last two scenes. Does anyone tuft? A tufting studio opened near me a year or two ago and I kind of wanted to try it but it was so expensive. I liked watching people making those tufted rugs in videos.

[acutiewithagun]

Taglist: @oleander-nin @10yagurlchip01 @purple-flagz

Word count: 1,818

Mic Testing - Chapter Two: Embarrassing Stores

Thursday, the worst day of the week. Every month you had to tolerate another stupid meeting with your publisher. It was always a Thursday, never the same week, but always a Thursday. What makes everything worse is you never knew how many of these dumb events you would have.

They were always shoving sudden things in your face without as much as a few days' notice. You contemplated joining an agency at a point, but at least with your current contract you owned all your songs. And you had a bit more wiggle room than if you just joined an agency. So you tolerated your darn publisher.

You pushed open your laptop, already tired and frustrated. You clicked on the email that would lead to the link for the web meeting. Scrolling a bit you then clicked the link that waited. They never showed up on time so you had to block out your entire day just for this useless waste of time that could just be emails. You backed away from the screen slightly as you grabbed your guitar. Placing it on your lap, you casually slung the strap over your shoulder. You then grabbed a filming camera and set it up on the desk.

Figuring you could just get the music video out of the way while you waited you pressed the record button. You pushed back as you strummed a few notes and started the song. Clear and confident sounds came out from your vocal cords as beautiful strums left your instrument. Putting as much emotion in your performance you close your eyes, knowing your own piece by heart. The melody filled your small apartment room.

The tiny safety space held a bed, a wardrobe, and desk. You had a rug at a point, but you ended up accidentally spilling something on it and had to toss it out. It made you upset as it was your favorite rug in your favorite colors. The haven had been thoroughly cleaned the day prior, as to be a presentable space.

Once you finished the song you quickly stopped the recording, shutting off the little device. And this you returned to waiting as you watched a black screen. Deciding that wasn't worth your time you started scrolling through your phone. You started to read a fanfiction of a character you liked when you heard the dreaded jingle of someone entering the video call.

You look up with a smile, putting your phone in your lap. Then the face of your dreaded producer popped onto the screen. "Hello, so what did you need to discuss with me?" They also looked done with the situation and tapped a pen on their desk. "A local radio station reached out to me and asked for an interview with you. It would be on Saturday at around five pm. I told them to just talk to you themselves but they offered me a pretty penny considering, so I obliged. So will you do it?"

You were shocked a bit, you'd seen your analytics for listeners to your music. It was quite small considering all things. But you quickly nodded and scrambled for a pad and paper. "Could you tell me the address?" They scoffed and dismissively waved their hand. "It's the one five minutes away from your apartment. I don't know why they would want an interview with you." Your face soured at itheir phrasing, but you threw on a forced smile to hide it.

"Thank you, is there anything else you wanted to inform me of?" You did your best to remain professional, the producer did not give the same courtesy. "Yeah, I want the music video done and sent to me by the end of the week." Your fingers twitched in irritation. "I'll do my best to meet the deadline." They scoffed and tapped their pen on their desk. "You better, or I'll be behind schedule."

Oh how desperately you wanted to punch the person on the other side of your computer screen. But alas, you could not. "That's all I wanted to talk to you about. I'll be hopping off now." With those words your producer ended the virtual meeting, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as they left.

It was still midday and it's not like you could go claim your normal performing spot. So you got out of your desk chair, pushing it in as you left the room. You walked through the one hallway that led to the kitchen and living room. Snabbing the tote bag off the kitchen counter along with your keys, you gripped the front door handle. You figured getting groceries was the best way to spend your wasted day.

Stepping through the threshold, you closed and locked the door behind you. You could use the elevator, but found it useless as you only lived on the third floor. You trudged down the stairs and out to the crowded sidewalks. Tourists and local residents walked in every direction as you joined the fray. Tourism was already a thing people did often, but it really skyrocketed when a certain yokai started tours of the hidden underground city below the bustling New York City. Even you were slightly curious about the world under your home. However, the fees were outrageous and weren't worth your time.

You arrived at the small shopping district you normally performed at quickly. You shuffled your way around people until you entered the first grocery store you would have to visit. As a sign of peace to the many grocery shop owners, you bought at least one thing from each store when you went grocery shopping. This also in turn got you great deals on certain items.

Making your way through aisle after aisle, you went through the process of picking a few things, and pondering over others. Once you went over to the freezer section you felt a chill run up your spine. You turned your head to see another customer opening one of the many freezers that lined the wall. You rubbed your neck and marked it off to being the cold from the freezer, going back to the task at hand.

You finished up your business at that store then paid and left, already on your way to the next one. And the cycle repeated for three more stores. You reached the last destination you had and entered. You knew exactly what you were getting from here, so it should have been a quick in and out. However, the universe had other plans in store. "Hey Superstar! Grocery shopping?"

The grating voice of the shop owner, Solomon, made you turn to him with a smile. Normal human guy, nothing really special about his appearance. Nice person, way to over… reactive. "Hi, yeah, I was almost finished." He grinned and pointed to the speakers. "Well then I've got a surprise for you!" Before you could question him, he ran off into the backroom. You hesitantly shrugged it off and just started making your way to your final item of the shopping trip.

That's when you heard it, causing you to blush profusely in embarrassment. Solomon had put your songs over the speaker. He started playing your most recent one as you rushed to the display with the items you desired. You had to check out before-

"The lovely music you are hearing is from one of our very own local artist." His voice cut off the song and made you even more mortified as you swiftly made it to a line that for the worst reason, had people gawking at the speakers, not moving along. "Now in our little shopping district we all call them Superstar. They are even here today!"

You tapped your foot impatiently as you watched your fellow shoppers look around for the mysterious 'Superstar'. While you just wanted to curl up in a ball and die. "Alright, I'll stop praising them, enjoy the wonderful music they've produced." The click of the speakers turning off was a welcomed noise, what wasn't was your music being resumed. But luckily the lines started moving again. And you happily paid, rushing home before Solomon could find you again.

The support was nice, really it was, but all the shop owners acted as if they were proud parents showing off their kids tiny achievements. You had asked them to stop in the past, but as you can see now, it never worked. But they mean well, so you let it slide.

You rushed up the stairs to your apartment building, stopping at your front door, panting for breath. Running home might have not been the best idea, accidentally bumping into people, being worn out from navigating through clusters of pedestrians. Not your brightest moment, but you were home. You unlocked the door and lugged your haul inside.

You placed it on the countertop and started taking items out, organizing them as you went. You started placing the items away after getting it all out. Checking over at the clock on the microwave, it let you know your roommate would be back soon. Unless of course they had a meeting after work they didn't inform you about. Which happened surprisingly often. You didn't question it, just started on dinner. Simple and easy freezer pizza, you felt lazy, and who doesn't like pizza.

You preheat the oven and slumped on the couch after popping the pizzas inside. That's when the recording you made earlier hit you like a truck. You groaned at the reminder of what your producer said and begrudgingly got up. You went into your room, opening up your laptop. Sticking a cord into one of the slots, you stick the other end into the video camera. You then got reminded to set a timer as you waited for the video to be transferred.

Pulling out your phone you set the timer for the pizzas, then shutting it off, slipping it back into your pocket. You slumped into your desk chair as you gazed at the loading screen. The music video didn't have to be amazing, just good enough people watched it. Still being a small artist, the algorithm for that type of stuff wasn't kind. So you always put half hearted effort to appease your producer.

You noticed a chip that looked like it was from your camera laying on the desk near your computer. You picked it up and wondered when you had bought a new one. You had meant to when you were out but got so busy with that last fiasco you couldn't. You turned it over and shrugged, maybe you just got it a few days ago and forgot.

Shoving it in your desk drawer, you notice the export was done and quickly go to editing the recording. Pizzas only on the back of your mind as you pull the head phones over your ears.